


Affair

by orphan_account



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: I will ship these two in hell, M/M, no one can stop me now, there's only kissing guys no frick frack yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:06:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody lives!AU where the Loyalists don't poison Corvo. Inspired by a prompt by crowbito on Tumblr. Havelock/Corvo</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affair

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the shit title, I couldn't think of anything better.

The Lord Regent had fallen.

After many months under the control of the tyrant Burrows, Dunwall was finally free from his clutches. He was now rotting in Coldridge Prison, awaiting execution. Corvo had pushed for a trial, something which he had not been allowed when he was falsely detained, but Havelock insisted that the man didn’t deserve one. “After what he did to you,” the veteran had said, “I say that we should put him to the blade now and be done with it.”

The power didn’t shift from the former Lord Regent directly to young Emily Kaldwin. She was ten years old, still impressionable, and she still had innocence left to lose. Havelock had said that she was much too young and immature to rule, and that her tutoring and training to become Empress was far from complete. Corvo – reluctantly – agreed. Emily had matured much in the time after her mother’s death, but she was still a child, and she wasn’t ready for the throne without a hand to heavily guide her first steps. And that is where the Loyalists stepped in.

Martin had already become High Overseer in the months when the Loyalist Conspiracy still worked in shadow. Havelock quickly snatched the title of Lord Regent, promising the hold the title until Emily had come of age, and his first act was appointing Lord Treavor Pendleton to the office of Prime Minister. He also took over Gristol’s military – particularly, the Imperial Navy. Corvo understood that it was what Havelock truly wanted, possibly more than any political power.

And Havelock understood that he had to be careful. Corvo made sure of it. After Burrows, after what had happened to the Empress, Corvo wasn’t as quick to trust those who took up power in the stead of the Kaldwins. The Serkonan made sure that the veteran – now Admiral of the Imperial Fleet and Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces as well as Lord Regent – knew very well that he was being closely watched. Corvo allowed Havelock to deal with Burrows personally, but anything else that the older man might want to do had to gain Corvo’s approval. No working in the shadows. No plans behind the Serkonan’s back. Havelock understood that _very_ well.

Corvo, of course, was reappointed to the position of Lord Protector, and his name was cleared. He was still regarded with suspicion and even fear – many still believed that the Serkonan killed the Empress, and even when the truth was told about what had happened on the day that Jessamine died, people still doubted him. It didn’t help that he now bore the Mark of the Outsider on his left hand. Havelock and Martin both had suggested that Corvo wear gloves to cover it up. The Serkonan made his first appearance bare-handed.

 

 

It was a few nights after Havelock’s appointment to the office of Lord Regent. The Loyalists, who were now in possession of an immense amount of power, were busy. Martin had the Abbey fully under his control already, but Pendleton and Havelock still had a lot of work to do. New laws were passed under Corvo’s supervision, and Hiram’s policies were repealed. His documents were decoded and studied so that the true depth of his treachery could be understood – Martin did much of the decoding, and though he’d gotten plenty done, there were still many documents to go through. Any man or woman who had been appointed to any position by Burrows had to swear fealty to the new Lord Regent and future Empress Emily Kaldwin, or else were removed from their offices. The Loyalists had made progress in undoing the damage that Burrows had dealt, but there was still much work to be done.

Corvo sat at the desk in what was once General Tobias’s quarters, documents and journals strewn in front of him. The lamp on the desk was the only light on in the entire room. The Serkonan had been studying what Martin had decoded, reading and rereading each and every document that was available to him. It’s been months since the Empress died, and the Serkonan still couldn’t believe how deeply Hiram’s treachery ran. Corvo had always had his suspicions about the office of the Royal Spymaster – too secretive for his comfort – but Burrows had completely shaken his faith in the position. If the position was to be held by anyone in the future, then the Spymaster would no longer be allowed to keep secrets from the throne. Corvo would make sure of that.

Corvo shoved aside the papers and small journals, making way for his arms to rest on the desk. He planted his elbows firmly on the wooden surface, resting his head in his hands and leaning forward. His eyelids felt like lead and fatigue crept at the edges of his mind, but he didn’t want to sleep. He still had much to read. He knew Burrows’s motives by heart, but all he wanted was to _understand_ –

Three short knocks sounded on Corvo’s bedroom door, catching the Serkonan’s attention. With a heavy sigh, Corvo called for whoever it was to enter, and with a loud creak, the door was pushed open.

“Those hinges need a good oiling,” Havelock commented, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. Corvo glanced up, his hands on his cheeks and fingers dragging at his lower eyelids. The older man wasn’t wearing his navy blue coat, his shirtsleeves rolled up and collar undone. He looked like he was still residing at the Hound Pits, sitting at the booth with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He looked a little tired, but was much more alert than Corvo felt. Any clothes that he may have ordered tailored for him were still being made, so the only official-looking clothing he owned was his naval uniform.

“I’ll have a servant do it tomorrow,” Corvo muttered, rubbing at his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. He’d spent the past few hours hunched over his desk, and falling into a relaxed position felt so good it hurt. His bones cried out with relief.

“Do you realize how late it is, Corvo?” Havelock questioned, approaching the Serkonan’s desk. He braced himself on the edge of the desk and leaned forward, his cool gaze locked on Corvo. His eyes were unreadable, as they usually were. “You bid Emily goodnight three hours ago. You should be in bed.”

“So should you,” Corvo retorted, and Havelock chuckled. The younger man knew that the recently appointed Lord Regent was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. All he wanted to do was to burn the contents of the Burrows documents into his mind until he could fully understand the man who conspired against the Empress.

“True,” Havelock admitted, “But I get more sleep than you. You need your rest, Corvo.”

The Lord Protector sighed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes until it nearly hurt. He heard Havelock stand up straight and walk around the desk, stepping behind the Serkonan. Large hands rested on Corvo’s shoulders, Havelock’s thumbs digging into his shoulder blades. Corvo leaned back into the older man’s touch, dropping his hands into his lap as the veteran moved his thumbs in a circular motion along Corvo’s shoulders.

“So,” the Serkonan mumbled, “Do I still call you Admiral, or are you _Lord Regent_ to me now?”

“Call me whatever you want – in private,” Havelock replied, his voice low. “In the public eye, I’m Lord Regent Havelock.” Corvo hummed in acknowledgement.

“Alright, Farley.”

“Anything but _that_.”

Corvo laughed, then sighed as Havelock dug his thumbs deeper into his back. He felt himself slowly begin to unwind, his tense muscles relaxing as the moments crawled by. He and Havelock had done this on occasion in the past; Corvo knew Havelock’s hands very well. But it still felt like ages since he’d felt such an intimate touch.

He felt warm breath on his ear as Havelock leaned down, his lips dangerously close to the Serkonan’s sensitive flesh. “We should move to the bed,” the older man murmured, squeezing Corvo’s shoulders. Corvo simply nodded in response, and once Havelock straightened up again, the Lord Protector rose to his feet.

Corvo left the lantern burning on his desk, shuffling across the room to his bed. Havelock followed close behind, with one hand resting almost possessively on Corvo’s shoulder. Even though Havelock now had to answer to Corvo, he still treated the Serkonan as if he was the assassin under his command. The older man was a dominant spirit, and Corvo, despite now having some sort of power for himself, was still used to submitting to others. Havelock released the Serkonan when he began undressing, however, undoing the clasps and buckles of his uniform and pulling off his collar. Corvo shrugged out of his coat and stripped down to his shirtsleeves and trousers. When he sat down on the bed, Havelock joined him.

The Serkonan undid the clasps on his shirt, then slipped out of it, tossing it on the floor with the rest of his clothes. He then turned his back to Havelock, whose hands went back to work. Large though carefully gentle fingers traced over the vast array of scars along Corvo’s flesh. Long, puckered scars left by whips, large patches of what was once burned flesh, scars that Havelock didn’t want to know the origin of and scars that Corvo didn’t want to explain. The Lord Protector could feel the Admiral’s eyes on him, drinking in each marking as if it was the first time he’d seen them.Havelock pressed his thumb against an old burn on Corvo’s shoulder, causing the younger man to wince and shift in his spot.

“Does that hurt?” the older man asked, his voice a low rumble.

“Only a little,” Corvo responded.

There was a pause, and then Corvo felt Havelock’s lips replace his thumb on the scar. The Serkonan shuddered, gooseflesh rising along his spine as he felt Havelock’s teeth graze against the sensitive flesh. A thick arm wrapped around Corvo’s torso, and a breathy sigh escaped his lips as Havelock traced his tongue up the other man’s shoulder. The older man then pulled Corvo’s hair behind his ear, pressing his lips to the Serkonan’s stubble-lined jaw. Corvo turned his head so that their lips brushed, then connected, and Havelock pulled their bodies flush together. The older man’s mouth tasted like tobacco and wine, and he smelled of cigarettes, soap and sweat.

Corvo was tired enough so that sex was a bad idea. He knew it and Havelock knew it. Despite this, Havelock wrapped another arm around the Serkonan, his hand coming to rest on the younger man’s thigh. He squeezed, and Corvo moaned lowly into his mouth. The Lord Protector felt Havelock smirk against his lips, and bit his lower lip in response. Havelock grunted, and it was Corvo’s turn to smirk.

When they pulled apart to breathe, the sound their parting lips made was obscenely wet and a little loud. Corvo swallowed a few breaths while Havelock kissed a trail along his jaw and neck, his teeth occasionally nipping at the Serkonan’s skin. Corvo tilted his head back, leaning into the larger, more muscular man heavily.

“Still think I should get some rest?” Corvo murmured, running his hands along Havelock’s thick arms. His breath hitched as Havelock dragged his hand between Corvo’s thighs.

“That can wait,” the newly appointed Lord Regent growled into Corvo’s ear.“I’m not done with you yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> I will never stop shipping these two because everybody needs a little sexy Serkonan and muscular Navy guy sex in their lives.


End file.
